


The Most Fun

by jscribbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blowjobs, Cas is really good at blowjobs, Castiel laughs because babe deserves to laugh, Dean is an emotional blabbermouth, Destiel - Freeform, Drunk Cas, Drunk Dean, Drunk Sex, Love Confession, M/M, Play Fighting, Swallowing, alcohol consumption, cas watches porn in his spare time, s9 divergent, tequila shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 04:39:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15598470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jscribbles/pseuds/jscribbles
Summary: Dean teaches a newly-human Castiel how to do a proper tequila shot. However once he's grasped the technique, Castiel decides to put a sexier twist on the drinking ritual.





	The Most Fun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MalMuses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalMuses/gifts).



> This little story is not only a gift for one of my dearest fandom wives, MalMuses, but is also one of my submissions for this years Destiel Smut Bingo. The prompt was: "You didn't learn THAT from the pizza man."
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH to my beta, son_of_a_bitch_supernatural, who is such a champ for wading through my excessive commas. She is so loved. <3

The bar patio was buzzed with the excitable chatter of the drunk Saturday night crowd. An alternative rock band played inside the venue, muffled on the patio, barely audible over laughter and glasses clinking. A group of smokers hanging out under a neon sign that said “$2.50 SHOTS” dispersed when the door behind them to the patio from the bar swung open.

“Watch it!” one of the girls yelped, jumping back and waving her cigarette at them.

A tall guy in his mid-thirties wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt stumbled past her, narrowing missing singing his dirty blond hair on the burning tip of her cigarette when he lost his balance and tilted in her direction.

“Crap place to stand though, right?” he slurred at her. “You make a better window than a door.”

“Whatever, dude.” She rolled her eyes and made to rejoin her circle friends when another guy - just as tall and just as drunk - teetered out of the door and pushed through the group as well. He looked lost and a bit dazed looking as he searched the crowd. She stared at him as he absentmindedly rumpled his own hair for a second before stepping unsteadily right into her.

“Sorry -- uh, I’m sorry,” he said, as he accidentally knocked her drink with his drunk elbow.

She looked down at the dark wet patch on her shirt from the gin-tonic and then back up at him, incredulous, “What is your _problem_?”

“Jager shots, I think. It’s too much caffeine for any human,” the guy answered honestly, shrugging. He flashed her a pair of big apologetic blue eyes and then turned around, eyes flitting around, searching. When he spotted his friend, he reaching out for the first drunk guy, who grabbed his hand and pulled him away towards a crowded bar on the other side of the patio.

***

Dean and Cas maneuvered through the crowd, fingers linked, shimmying through groups of people and annoying everyone at the bar as they elbowed their way towards the bartender.

Dean waved at the girl behind the bar, raised four fingers and mouthed something at her. She nodded and spun on her tall heels, her long brown hair twirling over her shoulder as she faced a wall of bottles, each holding a different type of booze.

With a quick mechanical gesture, like she could do this in her sleep, she snatched up a bottle Castiel knew was tequila. Out of all of the bottles, it was his favourite.

“Tequila?” Cas whispered in Dean’s ear, accidentally brushing his lips against it when he was bumped by another patron. Cas eyed the empty shot glasses as the bartender flipped them down onto the bar with pizzazz that he was _sure_ wasn’t entirely necessary.

“Tequila!” Dean confirmed, throwing cash down at the girl and taking the full shots off the wet counter. “From now on, you are not allowed to let Sam buy you shots anymore. If we go back in there and he offers to buy you another drink, you say ‘hell no; I’m an former warrior of God, ex-angel of the Lord, and I deserve better than fuck-boy jager shots’.”

“What? Why?” Castiel demanded, looking adorably confused and a little bit offended. He took the shot from Dean anyway.

“Because,” Dean yelled over a group of girls who burst into song beside him. Through the off key rendition of Toxic by Britney Spears, he continued to explain, “Sam is no fun. He bought you a jagermeister and redbull shot like you were a fucking frat boy. You deserve better than that, Cas. I’m here to show you something more fun.”

While Cas stared down at the tequila shots like he was waiting for a stripper to jump out of it and make the experience ‘more fun’, Dean twisted around and grabbed two lemons and a salt shaker off the bar. Cas looked up at him and tilted his drunk little head.

“Are we eating now? Is this what you meant by ‘later, we’ll get drunk food’?” Cas asked over the bad karaoke that was happening beside him. He looked terribly disappointed. “I was hoping for tacos.”

“You taco too much,” Dean replied, pausing to laugh at his own terrible, terrible pun. “Come with me! Onward!”

He punctuated ‘onward’ by leaning back against the counter and nudging Castiel away with his foot. They wormed their way through the crowd again, Castiel looking peeved at being squished by the overwhelming amount of people. Even though he wasn’t an angel anymore, small spaces irritated him -- where was he supposed to stretch out his non-existent wings with all of these drunk idiots around?

They plopped down at an empty table. Dean set down the shots and a handed Cas two lemons.

“Okay!’ Dean said excitedly, rubbing his hands together, grinning.

Castiel tried to not smile too hard as his stomach flipped a bit. It had been doing that a lot lately, when Dean’s big green eyes looked all happy and glittery like that. He’d been on the receiving end of these looks more and more frequently since his fall and quite frankly, it was intoxicating. More intoxicating than the two pitchers of beer he, Sam, Kevin, and Dean had drank tonight… and the whiskey shots, and the overly sweet red drink Sam had generously bought for him.

“Now, here is the proper way to do a tequila shot, Cas. If you’re a) going to hang out with me on a regular basis like this, and b) going to drink like a real hunter, you gotta do this shit right,” Dean explained with a grin. He pointed at the supplies he’d brought over. “Lick, salt, lick, tequila, lemon. Got it?”

Cas stared at him.

Dean rolled his eyes and picked up his shot. “Watch.”

Cas watched Dean’s tongue drag across Dean’s wrist and physically reeled back in drunken surprise when he shook salt onto the wet patch.

“Salt,” Dean said pointedly, amused eyes flicking up at Cas. “Better for more things than french fries and demons. Okay, now lick again, do the shot, then suck on the lemon.”

Cas watched intently as Dean brought his salty wrist to his lips and pulled his tongue over the skin there, winking at Cas before the shot make contact with Dean’s lips. Cas watched his neck stretch back as he tipped his head and downed the shot of tequila before quickly snatching up a lemon and slotting his lips around it, sucking out the juice.

There was no way Dean hadn’t meant for that to look erotic. Or maybe Castiel was too drunk. He shifted in his seat.

Dean threw down the lemon and thunked down the empty little glass like he’d just done something incredibly impressive. He grinned and opened his arms. “Boom, done.”

Cas stared at Dean.

“That was the most underwhelming thing I’ve ever watched,” he lied.

“What?” Dean threw his hands up drunkenly. “What are you _talking_ about? Tequila shots are the most fun.”

“I didn’t see anything fun about that,” Cas argued, pointing at the lemons. “All of those steps seem excessive.”

“Fun’s in the eye of the beholder,” Dean slurred back. He reached across the table and took Cas’s hand, turning it over so his wrist was turned up. “Now lick it.”

“Fine,” Cas replied petulantly.

He twisted his hand so he had Dean’s palm between his thumb and pointer finger. While Dean made a little confused noise in his throat, Cas bent forward over the table to lick a stripe across Dean’s wrist. When Dean had done it to himself, he’d been quick, but Cas dragged the flat of his tongue over the thin, sensitive skin of Dean’s wrist stupidly slow.

Blue eyes flickered up to meet green ones for the briefest of seconds.

Dean’s mouth hung open and his eyes widened. His pants tightened at the feeling of Cas’ tongue all hot and wet over his skin. Not for the first time, Dean imagined Cas’ tongue on other parts of his body, with blue eyes flicking up at him in an alarmingly similar way.

Cas shook salt over Dean’s wrist and then leaned down again. The pressure in Dean’s cock built as Cas latched onto his wrist with his lips and _sucked the salt off_. Then Dean watched Cas’ neck flex as he threw the shot back and swallowed it in one go.

The lemon slipped between Cas’ lips and _why did Cas have to stare at him like that as he did that?_ And for fuck’s sake, he didn’t have to suck it slowly like that.

The used up lemon joined Dean’s on the table and the glass clinked down beside Dean’ abandoned shot.

“Boom,” Cas said awkwardly. “Done?”

“You don’t have to say ‘boom, done’ right after.”

“Well you said it.”

“I was making a point,” Dean argued back, before he wiped his wrist on his shirt and choked out, “Dude, you weren’t supposed to do a body shot off of me! You were supposed to lick your own wrist.”

“You didn’t specify.”

Dean choked on nothing. “I didn’t specify?”

“You could’ve stopped me after the first time,” Cas argued, frowning. “I licked you twice.”

“Well,” Dean argued drunkenly, looking a bit flushed, “you caught me off guard with the blowjob eyes and the sucking-thing.”

Cas’ eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened.

Immediately Dean went more red, pressing his fingers to his lips. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“I… You think I made blowjob eyes?” Cas asked, looking strangely blank.

Dean sputtered and crossed his arms over his chest. “Naaaah.”

To save Dean the embarrassment of passing out from blood rushing to his face, Castiel nodded.

“I’m sorry I did a body shot off of you, Dean.”

Dean snorted and waved his hand, uncrossing his arms. “Eh, s’all right. I mean, technically that wasn’t a body shot anyway.” He busied himself by tapping some salt into his palm and licking up the grains, preparing for his shot. It was probably best to be rid of the shots before they caused more homoerotic stirrings in Dean’s jeans, and made getting up from his chair a problem. “Body shots are, like, more involved.”

Cas watched Dean do the tequila shot and suck on his second lemon. He followed suit, salting his own wrist this time and raising the tiny glass to his lips. “How so?”

Dean wiped his mouth and shrugged. “They’re usually on other parts of the body, y’know? Backs, stomachs, cleavage. S’kinda raunchy to be honest.”

“Sounds ‘more fun’ than a jager shot,” Castiel commented off-handedly. “You should have shown me that first.”

Then he tipped his head back and swallowed the tequila, thoroughly enjoying the burn thrown his throat and the instant warming effect in his belly. He also thoroughly enjoyed the flicker of shock that passed over Dean’s face.

The thought of licking salt off of Dean’s stomach or back for a tequila shot was unfairly arousing. But Dean wouldn’t want that from him and that was all right. Doing boring tequila shots and enjoying their platonic non-blowjob-y drinking would have to be enough.

He set the shot glass down on the table and quickly sucked the juice from the last lemon. He looked at the sky as he did it, trying to avoid accidentally making blowjob eyes at Dean, especially if it made him uncomfortable.

“So,” Castiel deflected, trying to change the subject, “should we go find Sam and Kevin?”

“Nah,” Dean said quickly. He looked nervous suddenly.

“No?” Cas asked, tilting his head.

Dean ran his hand over his lips. “Cas,” he asked, “you wanna get outta here?”

***

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Dean mumbled against Cas’ lips not even half an hour later. Cas had him pushed up against a motel door, and for fuck’s sake, they were _making out._

They’d only been at the motel for ten minutes, drinking from the mini bar like some pre-drinking teenagers, before Cas asked if he could try doing a body shot.

Sure, Dean had thought. They were alone, they had tequila. Sure, it was going to cost him fifteen bucks to buy that tiny-ass bottle of shitty motel tequila. But worth it to allow Cas a new human experience and hell, he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t hard already just thinking about Cas’ tongue on him again. He didn’t tell Cas that regular heterosexual men didn’t do body shots off each other unless they were being ironic or dared to.

Anyway -- how they ended up with their hands up each other shirts? No idea.

And Cas hadn’t even gotten to do the body shot yet.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Dean repeated through an embarrassingly indulgent moan and a smooth arching of his back.

“Mmmhmmm,” Cas responded, nodding into their kiss, his drunk hands sliding up Dean’s shirt like they did this all the time and it wasn’t weird or novel to be groping at each other.

They were rubbing and rutting up against each other furiously, hands grasping at skin and pulling at clothing and -- _where did Cas learn to kiss like that?_ He was pulling on Dean’ bottom lip with his teeth and brushing his tongue against Dean’s like they’d practiced everyday just for this moment. Their lips slotted together so easily, and Cas’ hand spread over the curve of Dean’s back, drawing him close so their chest and stomachs were flush.

And holy shit, Cas had his hand down the front of Dean’s boxers.

“I mean, this is really crazy, right?” Dean gasped, his head tilted back against the door. Cas lips were sucking hard on the patch of soft skin under his ear, making him hard as a rock. “This is really nuts because you’re Castiel and this is happening. And I never thought this would happen, y’know? One minute we’re at a bar with Sam and Kev, and then we’re doing shots, and then you’re making those eyes at me -- you were making those eyes at me on purpose, right? You’re actually into me and I’m not just imagining it, right? Y-You want this?”

“Dean,” Cas rumbled against the spot on Dean’s neck where he stopped mid-suck, “your testicles are cradled in my palm right now, is this the best time to talk?”

“I’m so drunk right now,” Dean whispered rushedly, knowing full well he’d gotten to that point where he was so pumped up on adrenaline that he truthfully hardly felt drunk anymore. Sure, his face was kind of tingly and smiling was something that was happening way too easily for him to be completely sober, but holy shit was the touch on his cock ever sobering. Castiel, angel-of-the-lord, no-God-is-not-on-any-flatbread, I-did-this-all-for-you, his best friend, the object of every one of his wet dreams for four years… _that_ Cas had his hand on his dick. The same hand that raised Dean from Hell. Now he was raising all kinds of other things and, _what the hell was happening?_

He blamed the blowjob eyes. And tequila shots.

And four years of sexual tension and secretly being in love.

Cas pulled back, finally fixing Dean with his full attention. “You… you’re _too_ drunk? Dean, I can stop. I want to stop if you… if you feel taken advantage of.”

“No!” Dean said embarrassingly quickly. “Jeez, I’m fine. I’m fine. I promise. Just… listen, Cas, there’s a difference between have sex with a person who is drunk, and having sex with a drunk person who wants to have sex with you? Y'know?”

Castiel looked hesitant.

“We started drinking at eight o’clock, right? Well, I’d already pictured you blowing me like four times by six o’clock, and I was stone cold sober all day.”

Cas’ jaw dropped.

Dean panicked. “Uh, I mean. Fuck. Cas, I mean, I don’t just want you like that, but -- I’m… I feel really… I’m so drunk, god, I’m so sorry that I just said that out loud.”

What he didn’t expect was for Cas’ dropped jaw to close and for his hand to come up to his mouth. His shoulders shook and suddenly Dean wanted to punch Cas in the dumb shaking shoulders when he realised Cas was laughing at him. The low rumbly chuckles mocked Dean.

“Don’t laugh at me! I’m… I’m really drunk.”

The laughter built and Cas brought his other hand up over his mouth. He was laughing pretty loudly and while Dean shoved at him, Dean started laughing too.

“Don’t laugh!”

“I’m sorry!”

Dean shoved Cas to the ground. Cas tried to fight back with one hand, but he was too busy laughing out loud that it was kinda of a pathetic attempt at self-defence. His laughter was a vision and sound that Dean so rarely heard. It was full bodied and… _fuck, was he ever pretty._

Dean ended up straddling him, their arms flailing around in a play fight.

“Dean, you woke up at two o’clock!” Cas wheezed. “That’s once an h-hour!”

“STOP!” Dean laughed.

“You imagine m-me sucking on your penis once an - an hour!?” Cas sacrificed one of his flailing hands to clap back over his mouth.

“You’re making me sound like such a perv!” Dean chortled, biting his lip as he struggled to pinch Cas in the collarbone, one of Cas’ wiley hands smacking him away. But Dean got a grip of Cas’ wrists and before he knew what he was doing, he’d pinned them up by Cas’ head and arched his back down as he folded over him, capturing Cas’ lips. The laughter slowly melted into soft moans, vibrating against Dean’s lips.

Cas’ hands went up to Dean’s back, sliding down languidly, settling on the small of his back, feeling Dean’s muscles sliding under his skin as he rolled his hips forward again, their hard cocks brushing against each other.

Cas’ hand slipped down, gliding over the curve of Dean’s back, over his hip, sliding under his waistband and touching Dean exactly where he needed to be touched.

“Are you sure you want this?” Dean rambled on under his breath when Cas’s hand rolled his balls in between his fingers and slipping his hand up around Dean’s shaft, pumping his cock slowly. “If you’re too drunk, Cas, we shouldn’t--”

“I’m fine, Dean.”

Cas responded by flipping Dean over, too fast, too quickly for Dean’s drunk ass to even register. He gasped as his back rolled onto the carpet by the beds. His head was protected from thumping down against the carpet when Cas’ big hand came around, tangled in Dean’s hair, and gently lowered his head onto the plush rug.

Slowy, Cas' hand slid from under Dean's head and brushed over the side of face, his finger dragging over Dean's bottom lip languidly. Dean’s heart hammered as he watched Cas eyes soften and darken.

The softest, smallest, most tender kiss was brushed over Dean’s lips, and then Cas was moving down his body. Dean raised his head to watch as Cas tugged Dean’s pants and briefs over his hips and down his legs.

Cas threw his pants past them, hitting the bedside table near Dean’s head that housed a handful of lemons and a salt shaker they’d stolen from the bar. A lemon rocked off the edge and landed near Dean’s head.

“Hey! Watch it--” Dean started, but he immediately swallowed his words as his head came back down hard onto the plush carpet. Cas mouth wrapped around the head of his cock and sucked on it wetly.

They didn’t have any music on and the motel was weirdly quiet except for the hum of the old fridge and the muffled sounds of TV from next door. But fuck, he did not care about any of that, because the wet, slurping sound of Cas’ mouth taking his dick down his throat over and over was the only sound that mattered. His own trembling, shallow breaths and hitched groans competed for attention in the quiet of their room.

It was mind-blowingly naughty and kind of downright dirty, the wet sounds Cas was making around his dick and the rasping, gasping noises coming out of Dean’s mouth. It wasn’t the sensual experience he’d thought he’d have with Cas for the first time, _if_ they ever had a first time, but fuck if it wasn’t kind of perfect anyway?

He brought his legs up over Cas’ shoulders, his thighs tightening around his head. He raised his own and looked down, meeting blue eyes rimmed in dark, thick lashes. The eyes watched him closely, darting from holding Dean’s gaze to his parted mouth.

Dean felt heat gathering, building at the base of his cock when Cas pulled up just enough that Dean could watch his tongue curl around the head, leaving his skin glistening. Cas’ lips were wet too, slick and shining in the dim lamp light from the bedside. A thin string of saliva - or was it pre-cum - hung from Cas’ glistening bottom lip from the end of Dean’s cock and -- _holy shit, that was Cas. Castiel._

Dean watched in awe as Cas twisted his hand, slick with spit, up from the base and around just under the tip, the shining tip disappearing into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the top, and when his hand curved back down, he hummed as he took Dean’s cock in deeper until it hit the back of his throat. His blue eyes flickered up to watch Dean’s face.

Dean very nearly came.

Then he relaxed his legs and pushed himself up onto his elbows, reaching a hand down to run through Cas’ hair, pushing his messy, floppy brown fringe away from his eyes.

“Cas, wait, stop.”

There was a ‘pop!’ when Cas’ sucked his way off of Dean’s cock. “Am I not doing this right--”

“I just pretend to be all macho and like I don’t have feelings, but I’m drunk enough to pull a Sam and tell you how I feel, I just -- I mean -- don’t do this if tomorrow you’re gonna be weird around me. I -- like, you know, I just… If you pretended like this didn’t happen or things went back to normal, that’d be really fucked up. I’d be pretty pissed off, Cas.”

“I have wanted this for years,” Cas replied seriously, but it was hard to take him seriously when the slick tip of Dean’s dick was rubbing against his lips.

“‘Kay, but I mean more than a blowjob, you know? If-if--” Aaaand Dean felt really drunk again all of a sudden-- “you, y’know, went back to normal-you tomorrow, I would pretend to be fine, but I’d be upset, y’know? Do you know what I mean?”

“Dean--”

“I’ve had feelings for you for a really long time, Cas. A really long time.”

Cas’s face softened, and his hands slipped off of Dean’s legs.

Dean’s fingers curled back into fists, his stomach in knots. He said something wrong.

Cas was quiet for a moment, then looked up at Dean. The knot unfurled in Dean’s stomach when Cas smiled one of those big, toothy smiles that turned up in the corner.

“Me too, Dean.” He patted - fucking _patted_ \- Dean’s leg. “I promise that tomorrow morning not only will I remember this, but I will want to do it again. Without tequila.”

Dean’s face twisted in confusion. “Blowjobs?”

“No,” Cas said sincerely, “talking about our feelings.”

“Oh.”

“And of course, blowjobs,” Cas added. “If one is still happening now.”

Dean responded by curling his fingers through brown locks of hair and pushing Cas’ mouth down around his cock.

“To answer your -- umph -- q-question, yes, Cas,” Dean moaned, tilting his head back and letting his eyes slide closed. His hand was rested on Cas’ head, urging him up and down, though Cas needed no urging, “you are doing everything right. W-Where -- oh god, oh fuck -- d-did you learn to do this?”

He looked down at Cas and was shocked to see him actually grinning around his cock. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen a mischievous look on Cas face, but this sure looked like one.

Cas lifted his head up and shimmied a little, so Dean loosened his thighs around his ears.

“The pizza man.”

“You motherfucker,” Dean barked out in a laugh. “You did _not_ learn _that_ from the pizza man.”

Cas kneaded his balls in his hand and winked -- _did Castiel just wink at me,_ Dean thought incredulously -- before he murmured, “Perhaps not the same one. But the pizza man is a popular theme in homosexual pornography as well.”

“Gay porn, and the pizza man, and body shots… Who _are_ you?” Dean breathed, eyes widening as an awe-inspired smile curled the corner of his lip.

“A human,” Castiel responded simply. “And I haven’t done a body shot yet. Can I put my mouth on your penis again now?”

“I’m not going to last very long, Cas,” Dean admitted. “Where do want me to… uh…”

Cas glanced up at the nightstand and then back down at Dean. “I think I have it figured out, Dean.”

“Okay, I just wanna make sure--”

Very quickly, Dean found his cock nestled in the back of Cas’ throat, hot and warm and tight. He dropped back down onto his back, his head resting back down on the carpet, completely dropping the subject.

He didn’t last very long, as promised. When Cas starting turning his head in the opposite direction that he was jerking Dean’s cock, the dam broke. Dean’s cock pulsed in Cas’ hand as he came thick spurts into Cas’ mouth. Dean’s eyes rolled back into his head and he arched up, fingers gripping at brown hair, one hand trembling down the side of Cas’ face, a thumb brushing his cheek.

“Cas… Cas.. _yes_ ,” he whispered hoarsely, back arching up again as his dick softened on Cas’ tongue, throbbing with every rush of cum shooting from the end, still so hot and slick. Cas sucked him off hard through his orgasm like he was hungry for it, his eyes connecting with Dean’s once Dean raised his head, wanting to watch Cas take his cock down his throat one last time.

When Dean’s legs -- now jello -- spread apart, shaking, Cas rose up onto his knees and reached over Dean’s head. Dean’s stomach jumped a bit when he saw Cas’ mouth pressed hard into a thin line; he still had a mouthful of cum.

“Oh my god,” Dean said rushedly, embarrassed. “You can spit it out, Cas, you don’t have to swa-- oh, Jesus.”

He had to shut up when Cas grabbed what he needed from nightstand and sat back on his heels, visibly swallowing Dean’s load. Dean’s mouth dropped open when Cas downed the mini tequila bottle as a chaser.

“No, you’re fucking not--” Dean choked out, delirious laughter bubbling in his throat.

Yup, Cas was.

Dean watched Cas finish the tequila and raise a lemon slice to his mouth, sucking down the juice. He shuddered.

Cas made a bitter face and shook his head. “That tequila was disgusting.”

“How… did…. What… Did you just do a tequila shot with my, uh...”

Cas wiped his mouth and threw the lemon aside. Very seriously, he replied, “I heard ejaculate was salty.”

Dean’s mouth dropped open.

“Oh my god. I love you.”

And Castiel, maybe because he was too drunk or too excited, beamed at him, looking simultaneously super beautiful and really goofy.

“You should try my way of drinking tequila,” Cas suggested, shrugging. “It’s more fun.”

“Oh boy,” Dean laughed, pushing himself up onto his elbows, “is it ever. Now get on the bed. Grab a lemon for me. It’s your turn.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. <3 Please leave a comment to let me know what you think. 
> 
> Love your faces!


End file.
